


Reconcile This War Inside of Me

by anodyneer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Avoiding the past, Established Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Established Relationship, Good Peter Hale, Hale Family Feels, Halloween, Internal Conflict, M/M, Married Chris Argent/Peter Hale, POV Chris Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27341413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anodyneer/pseuds/anodyneer
Summary: A simple invitation to a Halloween party causes Peter to react in a way that Chris never expected. Thankfully, Chris knows Peter well enough to realize that sometimes the best way to help him deal with his problems really is to let him run away from them.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale
Comments: 5
Kudos: 78





	Reconcile This War Inside of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for last year's Petopher Discord Halloween challenge. I didn't finish it in time, so I decided to save it to post this year. And then still forgot to post it on Halloween. Story of my life.
> 
> Title is from "[Remember We Die](https://youtu.be/-0O4hcz9Zt4)" by Gemini Syndrome.

Chris strode out of the elevator into the penthouse he shared with Peter, trying but failing to keep the smile off his face. Since he’d finally made his co-workers aware of his marriage to Peter, they’d been able to start going to some of the work parties and get-togethers that they’d had to avoid for so long. And as much as it sometimes embarrassed Chris, Peter took every opportunity to show him off, especially to the supernatural community. A werewolf in a long-term relationship with a former hunter – and an Argent, no less. Peter knew how some of his peers felt about it, and it made him even more insufferably smug every time he got a reaction.

The Halloween party was something new for Chris. He hadn’t really done much for any of the holidays since Allison’s death, but he’d gotten an invite to the get-together at the security firm where he worked, and he’d tentatively accepted. Chris had a feeling it would be something Peter would enjoy, and he was hoping the feeling would be contagious. Not only that, but he was sure Peter would come up with some elaborate couples costume, and he’d be shocked if it didn’t involve at least a little leather.

“Peter?” he called, glancing into the kitchen and the living room before heading back the hall to the study. Peter was just rounding his desk when Chris got there.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Peter hooked his fingers over the loosened knot in Chris’s tie and pulled him in for a kiss, one that started tame but ended just shy of filthy, leaving them both a little breathless. Peter’s arms circled Chris’s waist, and he started the slow, deliciously torturous post-work routine of scenting Chris. It usually ended in the bedroom because Chris’s neck was absolutely an erogenous zone, but it wasn’t like Chris would ever complain. For as self-centered as he could be much of the time, Peter was an attentive, generous lover.

“Mmm.” Chris tilted his head and closed his eyes. “I needed this.”

“You’re not the only one,” Peter murmured, the words tickling Chris’s skin. “You really don’t have to work, you know. The days are excruciatingly long without you here to distract me.”

“Melodrama,” Chris breathed, “thy name is –.” Peter cut him off with a sharp nip to his earlobe. The hint of fang, as always, made Chris a little more weak in the knees than he’d ever admit.

They didn’t even make it to the bedroom. What started on Peter’s desk somehow ended in the living room on the luxurious sectional that Peter had insisted they get when Chris moved in with him. Chris dozed afterward, already tired from work and thoroughly worn out by Peter, who wrapped himself around Chris like a weighted blanket.

It was hours later when Chris finally remembered to ask Peter about the party. They’d just finished eating and were once again lounging on the sectional, watching the evening news.

“Hey, so Blake invited us to the office Halloween party. I figured you’d –”

“No.”

“– probably want…what?”

“No.” Peter stared at the TV, his jaw clenched.

Chris just looked at him for a moment, expecting Peter to elaborate. When Peter continued to sit there, stone-faced, Chris finally shrugged. “Okay. I’ll let him know we can’t make it.”

Peter glanced at him then, though his expression didn’t change. “You’re not going to fight me on this?”

“No,” Chris replied, brow furrowing. “Should I?”

Peter gave him a suspicious look. “I can’t decide if that’s infuriating or refreshing.”

Chris sighed. “You do realize we can have make-up sex without fighting first, right? It’s just called sex.”

That got a snort out of Peter, and he seemed to relax a bit, though his posture remained stiff. “I’m well aware.”

“Fine. Then I’d rather not argue about something that’s not a big deal. You don’t want to go, so we won’t. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

Something flashed in Peter’s eyes then, something vulnerable and sad, gone almost before Chris caught it.

“Thank you,” Peter said softly, and the tension seemed to dissolve away. He laid down with his head on Chris’s thigh, turned toward the TV. A full hour passed before he spoke again.

“I hate Halloween. I mean, what’s there to like, really? A day dedicated to dressing up as creatures that supposedly don’t exist – say, werewolves, for instance – and taking candy from strangers or playing pranks on unsuspecting people simply because they declined to participate. Oh, do sign me up.”

Chris turned the words over in his head for a moment as he ran his fingers idly through Peter’s hair. It was clear there was a lot more behind Peter’s complete dismissal of Halloween, and if Chris waited, the rest would eventually come out.

When, after a few minutes, Peter didn’t continue, Chris decided to share something of his own.

“Allison loved Halloween.” Peter let out an irritated rumble, but Chris ignored it. “She didn’t know about the supernatural at the time. Victoria wouldn’t have let her dress up as something that actually existed, but she always wanted to be something like Xena or Wonder Woman anyway, so it never really came up.”

“Chris, please stop.”

That gave Chris pause. Peter usually didn’t mind when Chris shared memories of his family. He’d done so much grieving in his own lifetime that he understood Chris’s need to work through the memories and the feelings that came with them.

“You know, you don’t have to –”

Peter snarled and pushed himself to his feet before Chris realized it was happening. Only his years of training kept him from flinching.

“Peter –”

Peter roared, eyes flashing blue, and stormed off in the direction of the study. Chris took a moment to gather himself before following. He found Peter on the balcony outside the study, breathing hard and pacing.

“Peter,” he started, reaching for Peter’s shoulder as he passed. Peter ducked away and whirled on him, clearly fighting the shift.

“No,” he growled, eyes still glowing. “You have no right to force me into talking about this.”

The coppery scent of blood was obvious even to Chris’s human senses, and he looked down to see it dripping from Peter’s clenched fists, barely visible in the waning daylight.

“Easy,” he murmured, taking one of Peter’s wrists. “Don’t do that.”

Before Chris realized what was happening, Peter had him up against the wall next to the sliding doors, one slick hand wrapped loosely around his throat. It wasn’t a threat so much as an escape attempt, and Chris didn’t fight back.

“Back off,” Peter hissed, blue gaze moving over Chris’s face. “You have _no right_.”

“Okay.” Chris held his hands out away from his sides, staying pliant in Peter’s grip.

Peter huffed and was suddenly gone, disappearing through the still open balcony door back into the apartment. Chris stood there for a moment, just breathing, before walking over to the railing to peer down at the street below. The streetlights were just starting to come on, and everyone was going about their business, oblivious to what had just taken place high above them.

Finally, Chris pushed away from the railing and took a deep breath, centering himself before going to find Peter.

The light was on in the master bedroom, clearly an invitation to Chris since Peter didn’t need it to see in the dark. He found Peter in their bathroom, drying his hands as if on autopilot. He didn’t react when Chris stopped in the doorway.

“You okay?”

“No.” Peter turned to face him. “I’m sorry.” His eyes widened, and he brushed at Chris’s neck, his thumb coming away red.

“It’s probably yours. I didn’t feel anything.”

Guilt flashed across Peter’s face before he schooled it away. He wet the corner of his towel under the faucet and used it to clean Chris’s neck, his touch surprisingly gentle. When he was done, he dried Chris’s skin with another corner and dropped the towel on the counter. Chris just stood there, willing to let Peter decide what happened next.

“I’m sorry,” Peter repeated in a rough whisper. Chris knew it was something he wasn’t used to saying, but it was sincere.

“I know you are,” he said gently, reaching for one of Peter’s hands. Peter let Chris lead him out of the bedroom and back to the sofa. “Want me to put on some coffee?”

Peter shook his head. “Tea, I think. Something herbal.” He seemed distracted, lost in his own head. Chris leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the temple before heading to the kitchen.

When he got back with the tea, Peter was still staring off into the distance, eyes unfocused. He took the proffered mug and inhaled the steam but still wouldn’t look at Chris.

Chris took a few sips of his own tea and put it on the coffee table in front of them. He sat beside Peter and leaned into his side, pulling a blanket over their legs. They sat there in silence as Peter nursed his tea, and Chris was content to just be close.

It still surprised him how much he enjoyed snuggling with Peter, as it was something he’d never done with Victoria. Peter was much more tactile than she’d ever been, though, and it hadn’t taken Chris long to get used to the constant contact – or to start craving it.

“Halloween was a big deal for us, back in the day,” Peter said suddenly, his voice soft. He leaned forward to put his mug on the table before settling back into Chris’s side. “The children, especially, loved it. The adults tended to lean more toward observing Samhain, but they also went all out for the kids. It was the biggest holiday of the year for our family.” He let out a weary sigh. “Derek still enjoys it. I can’t fathom why.”

“Stiles probably has something to do with that.”

“Don’t remind me,” Peter grumbled, though there was no real disdain behind it. Chris knew Peter was secretly pleased that his nephew was finally in a relationship with someone he could trust, someone who wouldn’t hurt him. “They’ll be insufferable if they ever have a child.”

Chris hummed in agreement but didn’t take the bait. Peter had started to open up about what was really bothering him, and Chris didn’t want to distract him from that. “Sounds like you have a lot of good memories of this time of year, then.”

“I did at one time, yes,” Peter replied, and it was clear from his tone that he knew what Chris was doing. “And then your sister turned it all to ashes.”

The unexpected reminder hit Chris hard, and he inhaled sharply through his nose. He knew Peter hadn’t said it to be cruel, and that if anyone had a right to hurt, it was Peter. It still made Chris’s heart ache, made his stomach clench.

“Peter…” What could he even say?

“Don’t,” Peter replied, his voice thick but steady. “You’re not her, Christopher. You’re _nothing_ like her.” He buried his face in Chris’s neck and inhaled. It was several moments before he spoke again, his breath hot against Chris’s skin. “I hate remembering how happy we were. I hate that it still _hurts_ to remember.” The words came out in a strangled growl, and Peter shivered, his fingers tangling in the front of Chris’s shirt.

For as good as Chris was at compartmentalizing, he let himself feel this time, let himself share Peter’s pain. His eyes stung, and he tilted his head down, lips brushing the top of Peter’s head.

“I’m so sorry, Peter,” he whispered, well aware of how badly his voice shook. “I know it doesn’t help, but I’m still so sorry.”

Peter made a noise that might have been vague acceptance but he didn’t move, still breathing deeply, taking comfort in Chris’s scent. Chris held him and stroked his hair, his thoughts drifting. The Halloween party was definitely out, but maybe there was something he could do to help Peter avoid the reminders until they became something he could tolerate.

\-------------

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Peter said from the passenger seat.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Peter let out a low growl of frustration. “You do know how much this irritates me.”

Chris somehow managed to keep a straight face. “Yes, because you’re a control freak. Not my problem.”

“You knew I was like this when you married me, so yes, it most certainly is your problem.” Peter let out a put-upon sigh. “I’m aware of what day it is, and I don’t know what you’re doing, but I don’t need your help. Or your pity. And I don’t need fixing.”

“Jesus, Peter, I’m not a shrink.” Chris glanced at him. “Or a vet,” he said under his breath. Though he knew Peter wouldn’t take offense at the teasing, he was still startled by the surprised laughter that bubbled out of his husband.

“Point taken.” Peter reached over to take Chris’s hand where it rested on the center console. “I trust you, I do. Just…one little hint?”

Chris squeezed his fingers as he swung off the country road onto a barely-there dirt path. “Don’t need one. We’re almost there.”

Peter gave him the side-eye. “Almost where again?”

“Nope. Nice try, though.”

They continued on in silence, though Peter extended the claws on his free hand and made a show of examining them and polishing them on his pants. Only years of practice kept Chris from laughing. He was smiling, though, when he finally pulled up in front of a cabin, surrounded by trees and seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

“This is it?” Peter said dubiously, head cocked to one side. “It looks cozy, but maybe a little anticlimactic.”

Chris arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh, well, if it’s a climax you’re looking for, I think I can help with that, but let’s at least go inside first.”

“Just one?” Peter smirked. He opened the door and got out, gaze alert as he took in their surroundings.

Chris retrieved their bags from the trunk and handed Peter’s to him. “Depends on what happens. We’ll see how the night goes and what you’re up for later.”

“Ooh, color me intrigued.”

Peter’s appreciation seemed to grow when they went inside. Though the cabin didn’t look like much from the outside, it was beautiful inside, complete with a small modern kitchen, an electric fireplace, and even a Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom. The sofa wasn’t quite as plush as their sectional, but it was big and comfortable-looking, as was the bed.

“What it lacks on the outside, it makes up for on the inside,” Peter remarked as he dropped his bag next to the dresser in the bedroom.

Chris nodded in agreement, dropping his own bag and then wrapping his arms around Peter. “I figured you might want to get away. Or maybe I wanted to get away. So I called in a favor.”

Peter sighed and sank into the embrace. “This is Detweiler territory, right?”

“You’re amazing. And yes.”

“Still got it,” Peter said, a smile in his voice.

After grabbing drinks from the well-stocked fridge, they got settled on the sofa. Peter agreed to let Chris light the fireplace when he found out that the flames could be set to various colors, making them look less realistic. Chris avoided the satellite TV offerings altogether, knowing that they’d likely only find Halloween movies, and went straight to Peter’s Netflix queue.

“ _Shawshank_?” he suggested, knowing it would take up a good bit of time.

Peter nodded. “We haven’t seen that in a while.”

It took even longer than expected to watch the movie, if only because they got thoroughly distracted for a while, dozed afterward, and then made something to eat. By the time the movie was over, it was dark outside, and it was clear that Peter was getting restless.

“So,” Chris said, deciding to let him off the hook. “You want to know why you’re really here?”

“That level of rhetorical question is beneath you.” Peter lifted his head from Chris’s shoulder. “But if you must have an answer, then yes, I obviously want to know.”

Chris grinned at him. “Let me up.” Peter stood and pulled Chris up with him, stealing a quick kiss. Chris led them out onto the cabin’s small back porch. The night air was crisp but not too cold, and Chris took a moment to just breathe it in. Beside him, Peter did the same.

“If your big secret is that you bought this place for us, and you want us to run away from Beacon Hills to live here, I accept.”

“Not quite, although we can use it any time we want. It does involve running, though.” Peter raised his eyebrows, and Chris gave him a small smile. “Look,” he said, his voice softer, “I know you know we came here to get away from the obvious. I won’t deny that’s why we’re here. I just…I can’t know how you feel, but I can help you not feel for a while.”

Peter just blinked at him, suddenly looking vulnerable. Chris wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and drew him in until their foreheads touched. “I want you to run,” he murmured. “Shift and run and get it out of your system. Do whatever you need to do.” His thumb stroked the soft skin just below Peter’s ear. “You’re safe here. I made sure of that.”

Peter’s breath hitched, and glowing blue eyes met Chris’s. He pulled away just far enough to give Chris a quick but thorough kiss before starting to strip out of his clothes, mumbling about not having to tell him twice.

Within a minute, there was a wolf standing before Chris, tall and proud. Peter’s wolf was mostly black with flecks of brown and gray throughout, and a bit of white around his muzzle, though Peter would likely deny that existed. His eyes were a striking golden color, though they flashed blue as he stalked around Chris, bumping his legs and scenting him. He finally came back around to sit in front of Chris, eyes alight and ears standing up.

“You’re stunning,” Chris told him, kneeling down so that Peter could scent his face and neck. Peter chuffed and swished his tail at him, and Chris grinned. “Go. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Peter cocked his head, regarding Chris for just a moment before jumping from the porch, ignoring the steps. He paced for a moment, getting a feel for being on four legs again, before running to the edge of the woods. He turned back to look at Chris, eyes flashing blue, before taking off into the woods like a rocket.

He came back not a minute later, streaking through the small clearing, around the cabin, and back into the woods. It happened a few more times, and seeing how happy and free Peter looked made Chris smile.

Eventually, he stopped coming back, and Chris could no longer hear him. He knew Peter would be safe, though. He’d know the pack boundaries by scent, and the Detweiler territory stretched for hundreds of miles anyway. They’d assured Chris that Peter wouldn’t be disturbed. They, too, had dealt with the massacre of several pack members, though not at the hands of the Argents. They knew what it was like, to an extent, although no one would ever be able to completely understand what Peter had gone through. He’d lost his alpha, his body, his sanity, and most of his pack, and he’d never really gotten a chance to mourn or to deal with everything that had happened to him.

Chris was pulled from his thoughts by a howl, low and mournful, that echoed throughout the forest. It was haunting in the clear night air and went on for longer than expected, bringing tears to Chris’s eyes and a lump to his throat. He lowered himself into one of the rocking chairs next to the door and dropped his head into his hands.

He rarely let himself cry, rarely let himself grieve, a product of his upbringing. Hearing Peter’s own sorrow, though, was more than he could take, and he let himself break down.

Peter let out another howl, farther away, and Chris’s shoulders shook. He was mostly silent, another thing he’d learned in childhood, but he cried for all of them – for Allison, for Victoria, for that younger version of himself. He cried for the Hales, both living and long dead, for the lives they’d had and the lives that were cut short. For Derek and Peter, both of whom had their lives permanently devastated by Chris’s fucked-up family. For Laura, who should have still been with them, and for Cora, who couldn’t even stand to be on the same continent anymore. Even for Boyd and Erica, because though he hadn’t known them well, they’d still been Derek’s betas, and their loss had affected Derek deeply, adding to his years of anguish.

By the time Peter’s howling stopped, Chris was done, thoroughly wrung out and feeling both lighter and exhausted. His eyes and chest were burning, he could barely breathe through his nose, and he really needed to wash his face, but the ache deep inside of him had lessened considerably.

He stood and stepped into the house, taking a moment to wash up before taking one of the quilts outside with him. He wrapped it around himself and settled in to wait, keeping his ears tuned to the woods even as he fought the urge to doze.

When Peter finally reappeared, he slipped out of the woods and into the backyard, letting out a soft woof to announce his approach. Even in wolf form, Peter looked as wiped out as Chris felt. His tail hung low, and he moved slowly, cautiously. When he got to Chris, he sniffed, catching the remnants of Chris’s own grief. A whine escaped him, and he laid his head in Chris’s lap.

“I know.” Chris said softly, stroking the fur behind Peter’s ears. Peter sat, pressing himself against Chris’s legs. “I love you, you know.” Peter sighed, eyes falling shut, and Chris smiled. “I don’t think anyone would have guessed I’d fall in love with a werewolf – or that you’d fall in love with a hunter. An Argent, no less.” Peter growled at that, startling a soft laugh out of Chris. He sobered quickly, though, and leaned over to get closer to Peter. “Did it help at all?”

Peter stirred and pushed himself to his feet. He shifted back and tugged Chris out of the chair, pulling him into a kiss. Despite the fact that Peter was naked against him, it wasn’t sexual. It was desperate and anguished and even hopeful, all at once. When they finally parted, Peter was gasping for breath. He buried his face in Chris’s neck, and Chris wrapped the quilt around him.

“Easy. I’ve got you.” He held Peter tightly, grounding him, anchoring him. “I’ve got you.”

Peter nodded against Chris’s neck, his breathing already slowing. It didn’t take him long to pull himself together, much to Chris’s relief.

“You ready to go in?” Chris asked, running a hand down Peter’s back.

Peter cleared his throat, but his voice was still raspy when he answered. “I think I need a shower.”

“I can help with that. Let’s get you inside.” Chris led him into the cabin, gathering Peter’s discarded clothes along the way. When they got to the bathroom, Chris started the shower to let the water warm up. “Want me to join you?”

“Of course.” Peter folded the quilt and dropped it onto the closed toilet lid before helping Chris out of his own clothes. Though he wasn’t sure if Peter would even be interested in anything other than getting clean after his run, Chris couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation of Peter’s hands brushing over his skin. Peter noticed, if the there-and-gone quirk of his lips was any indication, but he said nothing as he reached for Chris’s hand and tugged him into the shower.

Peter stepped under the spray and closed his eyes, groaning in a way that would have normally been a huge turn-on for Chris. For the time being, though, he concentrated on taking care of his husband. He started by washing Peter’s hair, which drew another appreciative groan, and then moved on to his body. He took his time, sliding the soapy washcloth over Peter’s skin, enjoying the fact that Peter was giving himself over to Chris like this. By the time he was done, Peter was thoroughly aroused and trying to plaster himself all over Chris.

“Peter –”

“Please, Chris,” Peter panted against his jaw, reaching down to wrap a hand around both of their erections. Whatever Chris was going to say left him, and he walked them back until Peter was pressed against the shower wall, wrapping his own hand around Peter’s.

Peter came first, with a shout so loud that it would have startled Chris had he not been so far gone himself. Chris started to loosen his hand, knowing how quickly Peter got oversensitive, but Peter growled and shook his head.

“Don’t,” he gritted out. “Just. Keep going.” His eyes glowed blue, and he was shaking with the effort it took to not pull away. His hand kept moving under Chris’s, so Chris picked up the pace again, his own fingers tightening to get that last bit of pressure he needed. Peter’s mouth opened in a silent cry, and his fangs dropped. That was enough to send Chris over the edge. He exhaled harshly as he came, dropping his head to rest on Peter’s shoulder.

Chris would have stayed that way longer, but the water was starting to run lukewarm, so he roused himself enough to rinse them off and get out of the shower. He wrapped Peter in one of the fluffy towels they’d brought with them and led him into the bedroom.

He took his time drying Peter off, running the towel gently over him, and Peter gave a soft rumble of contentment. He was staring at Chris, and Chris cocked an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“I love you,” Peter told him, reaching for the towel. He wrapped it around Chris and held him loosely as he dried Chris’s back and arms. “You always find ways to give me help I didn’t know I needed.”

Chris smiled at that. “So it did help?”

“Oh, yes.” Peter gave him a soft kiss before moving the towel down to his legs. It would be a while before his body could respond again, but seeing Peter kneeling in front of him still made Chris shiver. “And I don’t think I was the only one.”

“No,” Chris admitted. “It was cathartic. I guess I hadn’t realized how much I’d bottled everything up.”

Peter nodded knowingly as he stood. “Compartmentalizing will consume your soul if you let it.”

“Thank you, Doctor Hale.” Chris smirked and took back the towel, tossing it into the bathroom before ushering Peter into bed and under the covers. He rolled onto his back and let Peter curl up around him. They stayed silent for long minutes, just enjoying the closeness, before Peter spoke again.

“You know, this doesn’t make me enjoy Halloween any more than I did.”

“I know,” Chris said softly. “I’m still glad it helped.”

“Mmm.” Peter ran his fingers idly over Chris’s bare chest. “For the record, though, we can do this again anytime.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Chris replied. Something occurred to him then, and he let out a soft chuckle. “I was going to ask you how it was that we’ve been together for as long as we have, but I never knew you hated Halloween. And then I realized. Last year, we were in Mykonos, and Ibiza the year before. Should I go on?”

“I’ve been told I’m a master of avoidance.” Peter leaned up to brush his lips over Chris’s jaw. “Why mess with perfection?”

Chris huffed out a laugh and pulled him closer. “I would never do that. I’m just wondering why you let me bring you here this year instead of going to some exotic island.”

“You beat me to it. Most of the other trips were fairly last minute.” Peter’s voice went soft. “Every year, I think I might try to stay in Beacon Hills and deal with it. And every year, I…” He trailed off and sighed. “I can’t.”

Chris thought about it for a moment, letting the silence stretch between them. “You don’t have to, you know. Instead of looking at it as avoidance, why don’t we just say we’re starting a new tradition?”

Peter seemed to consider this before humming his assent. “Starting our own tradition. I like that. Makes me feel like a trendsetter.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Chris leaned down to kiss Peter’s temple, but Peter tilted his head up to capture Chris’s lips with his own.

“We can continue to come here,” Peter said, his voice still soft and now tinged with a sleepy note that only Chris ever got to hear. “Or we could try Iceland next year.”

“Iceland?”

“I’ve always wanted to see the northern lights. Seeing them with you would be even better.”

“It still amazes me that you’re such a romantic,” Chris said with a smile.

Peter narrowed his eyes. “If you tell anyone, I’ll remove your testicles and keep them in a jar of formaldehyde on the corner of my desk.”

“You say that like you’ve actually put serious thought into doing it.”

“What makes you think I haven’t?” Peter trailed a claw lazily down Chris’s chest and stomach.

Chris laughed outright at that, but it died in his throat when Peter’s claw raked through the hair below his navel. “Think about my balls a lot, do you?”

“Of course.” Peter retracted his claw and let his hand slip lower to cup the parts in question. “And everything that goes with them. Not just here –” He squeezed gently, and Chris groaned. “– but from head to toe as well.” His hand came back up to lay on Chris’s chest, a clear sign that he knew neither of them was quite ready for round two yet. “I’m really very taken with every single inch of you.” He laid his head on Chris’s shoulder and sighed.

“That works both ways.” Chris pulled the covers up around Peter’s shoulders. “I love you, and I’d go just about anywhere with you.”

“Even to Iceland when it’s cold and rainy, just on the off-chance that we might see the aurora borealis?” Peter murmured, sounding like he was close to falling asleep. It said a lot about how much he trusted Chris that Peter fell asleep so quickly and easily around him. He’d been a light sleeper, often plagued by nightmares, when they’d first started dating.

“As long as you’ll keep me warm.”

Peter’s head shifted on Chris’s shoulder as he nodded. “I promise, sweetheart.”

Chris smiled at that, letting his eyes fall shut. As always, though, he waited until Peter’s breathing evened out before drifting off himself.

\-------------

Their trip to Iceland the next year was beautiful. It was everything Chris had hoped it would be for Peter, and then some. The weather didn’t hold out for the entire trip, but it held out long enough.

Peter wept openly the first time he saw the aurora. He watched until it overwhelmed him, and then he turned into Chris’s embrace and cried for things that had nothing at all to do with the glow in the sky.

It wasn’t a panacea, but it helped more than anything else ever had, and for that, Chris was grateful.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk Petopher (and Sterek and more) with me on [Tumblr](http://anodyneer.tumblr.com/) \- and DM me for an invite to the Petopher Discord!


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